


Making a start

by Ivory_Feathers



Series: More than words [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Bottom Crowley (Good Omens), Dom/sub Undertones, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mildly Dubious Consent, Panic Attacks, Slow Burn, emotional whiplash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-18 14:03:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20640383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ivory_Feathers/pseuds/Ivory_Feathers
Summary: Crowley grimaced even as he felt a surge of happiness. It was so domestic. So… ugh… nice. It was perfect and he wanted so much more.Crowley/Aziraphale but things don't quite go as planned.





	Making a start

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: there's a step-by-step description of a panic attack, or at least, what they can be like for me. Proceed with caution if you're prone to that kind of thing. 
> 
> The panic attack is also the dub-con, so if you've ever been pressured it could also be a difficult read.
> 
> Tags mostly to err on the safe side, no demons or angels were harmed in the making of this fic, it's all just a storm in a teacup.
> 
> I tried to write smut and this happened.
> 
> Edit: Updated paragraph breaks for legibility. Thank you for the feedback!

Crowley and Aziraphale had settled into an easy rhythm. Well, not settled into so much as returned to, really. In fact, very little had changed at all. Aziraphale still defended his books from zealous customers, Crowley still terrorised his plants. They would dine out, Crowley would invite himself over and lounge around the store watching Aziraphale, they would drink excellent wine and talk the nights away. The difference was that they had stopped coming up with excuses for spending time together. They both enjoyed each other’s company and had no need to hide it anymore.

On this thus far unremarkable day, Crowley sat in his usual spot in the bookshop after hours, considering their newfound lack of pretence with satisfaction and openly watching Aziraphale leaf through a tome. Aziraphale glanced up as he turned a page, smiling gently as he caught Crowley’s eye, before going back to his reading. Crowley grimaced even as he felt a surge of happiness. It was so domestic. So… ugh… nice. It was perfect and he wanted so much more.

Aziraphale continued to peruse his book, glancing up at Crowley whenever he turned a page and giving him the same soft smile. It made Crowley want to pin him against a wall and ravage him. If Crowley licked his lips, he imagined he could almost taste the angel’s skin. Aziraphale was nearing the end of a page, his eyes lowered, his eyelashes almost coquettishly long seen from Crowley’s vantage point. Crowley unconsciously held his breath, waiting for Aziraphale’s next smile. 

Aziraphale looked up as he turned the next page, and smiled at Crowley. Crowley sighed as discreetly as he could manage. This time, though, the angel’s smile was different. A barely there turn at the corner of Aziraphale’s mouth, a more deliberate expression which did not fully fade away as Aziraphale turned his attention to the next page. Crowley stared. He imagined swiping his thumb against that mouth, pressing against that slightly upturned corner and back towards the fullest point of the angel’s lip, pushing his thumb into that hot wet mouth. Aziraphale’s lips parted. The angel was looking right back at him, his lips turning to an amused smile, Crowley realised with a slight start.

“My dear”, Aziraphale said fondly, “_you’re leering_”. 

It took a fraction of a second for Crowley to recover. He couldn’t think of a response so he pushed himself to his feet with as much loose-limbed swagger as he could muster. Aziraphale’s smile faltered. He had felt very bold not a moment ago, when Crowley’s demeanour was unmistakably predatory and Aziraphale had felt a surge of pride knowing it was directed at him. Now, though, he was having second thoughts. Basking in Crowley’s heated gaze was one thing, but inviting the full force of the demon’s direct attention was another thing entirely and Aziraphale suddenly felt out of his depth, keenly aware of his own complete lack of experience contrasting with Crowley’s presumably expert skills. What, oh what, had possessed him to say such a thing? How would Crowley react? At least he hadn’t laughed. Yet. Although Crowley hadn’t done much of anything since standing up, so really cackling or running away were still both equally likely at this point. 

Aziraphale stared at Crowley. Crowley stared at Aziraphale. Aziraphale worried his lip and Crowley’s eyes flicked to his mouth, following the movement as he stalked forward, swinging his hips as he went.

“Well aren’t you a brazen little angel?” he tutted at Aziraphale, with a confidence he didn’t quite feel, but hey, fake it till you make it, right? He had no intention of being out-flirted by an angel, of all things, no chance. Aziraphale flushed at Crowley’s words and he relished the sight.

“Look at you”, crooned Crowley, “is that blush for me? Is it my voice, that makes you blush? My _leer_? Do you _like_ it?”

He stalked steadily towards Aziraphale, his confidence growing with every step, watching the angel grow more red-faced with every word he spoke. It thrilled him to his core, knowing he had the power to fluster Aziraphale so easily. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he mourned the missed opportunities of the past and promised himself to use this delicious new superpower with abandon in the future. Dinner at the Ritz would never be the same again, he thought wickedly, picturing Aziraphale’s obscene appreciation of his food. How he would tease and fluster his angel. In public, no less, how indecent. Crowley licked his lips. He stood close to Aziraphale now, and inclined his head slightly bringing his mouth down near Aziraphale’s ear.

“How innocent you are, angel” he breathed, “how _virginal_ ”. 

It was only supposed to be a tease, a guess at best, but Crowley knew in an instant it was true. Aziraphale drew a sharp breath and looked up at Crowley, an expression of dismay clouding his features. Crowley felt terrible, he hadn’t meant to be hurtful or to genuinely embarrass Aziraphale. He was incredibly aroused at the thought of Aziraphale being untouched.

_Hypocrite_, he thought bitterly, _don’t you dare pretend you know what you’re doing, tell him the truth_, he scolded himself. Crowley opened his mouth to console Aziraphale, to admit that there had never been anyone else, that there never would be, to confess every desire, every sinful little thought to this beautiful, wonderful angel. But Aziraphale’s expression had changed and Crowley hesitated long enough for him to seize the moment. Crowley wields words like weapons, Aziraphale had realised. He teases you by letting your own imagination do all the work. Conniving demon. Two can play that game.

“I want you” he said simply, looking at Crowley’s sunglasses. He cringed inwardly at the cliché of the expression. But Crowley froze and made a sort of “Nng” noise somewhere in his nose and Aziraphale knew he’d struck his mark. He reached up to remove the sunglasses, which he folded and tucked into Crowley’s jacket pocket.

“I want to kiss you. I want you to kiss me. I want… to feel… your tongue in my mouth!” Aziraphale finished in a bit of a panic. Was that right? He felt a little silly. He felt a little naughty. He felt elated. Crowley was gaping at him dumbly.

Crowley was busy trying to remember that his corporation did not in fact, require oxygen, which was probably just as well right now. Of all the things he had expected, this had not even been on the list. Aziraphale was talking dirty to him. An angel was talking dirty. Aziraphale. Dirty talk. Not great dirty talk, admittedly, but that only made it worse. Aziraphale had mentioned kissing and it was destroying Crowley. He could feel the effect it was having on him. He could tell his pupils were dilated as the angel removed his sunglasses, but Crowley couldn’t bring himself to stop him. The thought itself was arousing, letting Aziraphale see him like this, answering Aziraphale’s blush with his own blown out pupils.

Aziraphale gazed into Crowley’s eyes with surprise. Crowley’s arousal was unmistakable. His pupils were wider than Aziraphale had ever seen them, irises barely visible even as close as they were to each other. It was humbling, Crowley letting himself be seen like this, and Aziraphale took courage in it.

“May I kiss you, my dear?” he whispered, surprising both himself and the demon.

Crowley nodded vigorously, being at a loss for words just at this moment, but disinclined to let that detail get in the way. Aziraphale raised a hand to Crowley’s cheek, gently cradling his jaw, as he raised himself towards Crowley, who leaned forward to meet him in a delicate kiss. Neither moved back very far; Crowley wasn’t honestly sure he could do much of anything right now, but moving away definitely didn’t strike him as something he’d want to do anyway. Aziraphale moved forward again, taking Crowley’s mouth in a firmer kiss, pressing forward to open Crowley’s mouth, licking his lips to beg for admission.

Crowley felt the kiss thrill every molecule of his body and he melted into it, leaning forward into Aziraphale and parting his lips in a sigh, letting the angel lick into his mouth and massage his tongue. He moaned at the sensation, hands grasping at Aziraphale’s hips, fingers gripping tightly, digging into the softness there. He shuffled closer, unable to bear the space between them, needing to touch and to be touched, but hesitant to do anything that might break the spell. Crowley felt a plummeting sensation in his stomach, startling him enough to break away from the kiss and realise that Aziraphale had miracled them into his bedroom. 

“I want to be able to touch you” explained Aziraphale and Crowley shuddered in response. It seemed that he hadn’t had anything very clever to say in a while, but he couldn’t bring himself to care while Aziraphale was busy turning him to goo. Aziraphale, for his part, was starting to get the hang of this teasing with words business. All he had to do, really, was tell Crowley exactly what he wanted to do, and he wanted to do so, so much.

“I want to touch your skin and kiss your body” he said, kissing Crowley’s neck, low down, close to his clothes, poking at them with his nose and chin, hinting unsubtly at what he wanted. 

“I want to see you naked, will you let me look at you?” coaxed Aziraphale.

_Just enough of a bastard_, thought Crowley, _as if I have ever refused you anything you wanted_.

Aziraphale wrapped his arms around Crowley and raised himself up to kiss along Crowley’s cheek. “I want to see your body”.

Crowley trembled against him, and Aziraphale felt a swell of affection for the demon which brought a smile to his face. He knew Crowley would give him what he wanted, all he had to do was ask.

“I want to see your cock!” There, he’d done it. He’d pushed through his embarrassment and he’d said it. Crowley stood in front of him slack-jawed but disappointingly clothed.

“Will you make yourself naked for me?” Aziraphale begged.

Crowley whimpered loudly. Aziraphale would push him until he discorporated in a puff of horniness. Crowley bent his head to take Aziraphale’s mouth in a searing kiss. _Tell me I’m yours!_ screamed a voice in Crowley’s mind. _Tell me you need me, tell me this is everything I hope it is_. Aziraphale held Crowley tight as he allowed the demon to plunder his mouth. Aziraphale put all the feeling he could into the kiss, hoping Crowley would understand. Crowley ended the kiss, too soon by Aziraphale’s reckoning, and took a step backwards. He fixed his eyes on Aziraphale’s face and snapped his fingers. 

Aziraphale considered fainting. Crowley was magnificent. Tall and lean and every bit as delectably edible-looking as any of the finest deserts Aziraphale had ever savoured. And his cock. Crowley was hard. His cock was full and hard and dark, sticking out proudly straight in front of Crowley, as though reaching out for Aziraphale. He had never felt a thrill like it. But Crowley looked desperately nervous and Aziraphale surged forward, although he hesitated to touch so much bare skin. He settled for tracing a line up one of Crowley’s arms reverently as he stood close and began to whisper.

“Look at you”, he crooned, “is that for me?” He couldn’t quite bring himself to name _it_, but the effect was the same, as he gently took hold of Crowley’s cock, watching the demon carefully. “Is it my voice, that makes you hard? My _touch_? Do you _like_ it?” he teased, echoing the demon’s own words to him as he held Crowley’s cock with gentle inexperience. He couldn’t help but smirk as Crowley’s eyes widened in recognition. “Your cock is hard” Aziraphale said simply.

_Bastard_ thought Crowley again, whimpering as he sagged forward, leaning his head against Aziraphale’s. From the moment Aziraphale had said he wanted him, Crowley had felt exposed and each word stripped him bare and dug further into his core. Crowley had never imagined that he could feel words with such intensity. He felt bereft, he felt cherished. It was so, so much. Not only that, but Crowley was now certain that the angel knew exactly what he was doing, choosing his words very carefully and watching Crowley’s every reaction. _Bastard_, thought Crowley, _you’re going to take me to pieces_. 

Crowley’s nipples pebbled in the cold air, drawing Aziraphale’s attention. He leaned forward to place an open-mouthed kiss over each nipple in turn, “Your beautiful long cock isn’t the only thing that’s hard”, breathed Aziraphale, as he let go of Crowley’s cock to trace up his body and lightly pinch the demon’s nipples.

“Your cock is redder” he remarked and Crowley blinked. Several times. He was having trouble focusing, his pupils felt so dilated it was distracting. Aziraphale was talking about his cock. Because he was naked. And hard. And beautiful, apparently. He was naked and hard and red and Aziraphale was still immaculate and could just run back to his bookshop to chat to customers about first editions and Crowley’s life would never be the same again. He was completely undone and he knew it. Only Aziraphale could put him back together and hopefully soon because Crowley was starting to suspect he may shortly be so out of control he’d be drooling.

Crowley hunched into Aziraphale, feeling the rub of the suit material against his bare skin. It was even more arousing than being looked at, naked and held close by the fully-dressed angel. He could feel shirt buttons pressing against his belly with every breath, and the roughness of his cock sliding against the inside of Aziraphale’s thigh, the rub of the material almost painful in its intensity.The heat of his angel’s body a stark contrast to the cold air on his bare back. Crowley keened.

“My beautiful, my dear” cooed Aziraphale. He loved to see the effect his words had on Crowley, how the usually extrovert demon stilled and quieted, demure, blushing at every word Aziraphale spoke to him. It boosted Aziraphale’s confidence, watching Crowley’s reactions.

“So sweet, how you blush for me, my dear”, he said, as he pressed a slow, chaste kiss to Crowley’s cheek. Crowley looked up at Aziraphale from under his lashes, his gaze more open and vulnerable than Aziraphale had ever seen it. Crowley’s mouth hung open slightly as he watched Aziraphale’s movements helplessly. Heartbreaking. “You’re perfect” sighed Aziraphale into Crowley’s mouth, barely skimming his lips to touch the soft skin. His arms however, held the demon close, only moving to caress Crowley’s back but otherwise holding him gently but firmly. “I can’t wait to make love to you” murmured Aziraphale, before pressing a kiss to Crowley’s other cheek, “I want to feel you”. Kiss. “The heat of you”. Kiss. “Over me and all around me”. Kiss. Crowley punctuated every statement with a small gasp, every kiss with the faintest whimper. 

Aziraphale had rocked them backwards until he could feel the bed frame against the back of his legs. He broke away from Crowley to sit down, running his hands down Crowley’s bare arms. He held the fingers of Crowley’s hand in his and looked up the length of Crowley’s body. “I love your body.” he said, “I love to see you naked, to touch your bare skin”.

Crowley struggled to look down at Aziraphale, feeling suddenly even more vulnerable without the angel’s arms around him. He wanted to cover himself, but Aziraphale’s expression was so tender that Crowley forced himself to relax, pushing the tension from his limbs as best he could. _You’re being silly_, he told himself, _this is Aziraphale, he’d never do anything to hurt you_.

With his other hand, Aziraphale tugged gently at Crowley’s knee, prompting the naked demon to straddle him as he ogled Crowley’s dark cock bobbing in front of his face. “I want to watch you open for me”.

Crowley trembled as he straddled the Angel. _My Angel_. He could feel the air against every inch of his bare skin, more exposed than he had been in centuries, feeling more defenceless now before his angel than he had ever felt in all of his long years. Crowley shut his eyes against the emotions that coursed through him, so strong and unfamiliar. _He has already hurt you, though_. Crowley squeezed his eyes shut. _Not anymore_, echoed Aziraphale’s voice in his head. 

Aziraphale ran his hands up Crowley’s thighs as the demon settled into his lap, nuzzling his neck and jawline, pausing to flutter the lightest of kisses on as much of Crowley’s face as he could reach. Aziraphale shuffled his knees further apart, stretching Crowley’s legs wide open across his lap. Crowley screwed his eyes shut until white lit up his mind. Soft, firm hands ran over Crowley’s butt cheeks, gently squeezing and massaging them.

“Do you feel open?” Aziraphale asked Crowley’s collarbone as he kissed it, relishing the breathy gasps coming from the wriggling demon and pressing his hands towards Crowley’s crack and tugging his cheeks gently. _Yes, I feel open. Open for you. More than ever. Helpless against anything you can do to me_. Above him, unseen, Crowley threw back his head, trying to rid himself of the memory of that day under the gazebo. “Do you want me here, in between your spread legs?” Helpless, open, vulnerable, defenceless. _You can hurt me like this_. Aziraphale’s breath trembled against Crowley’s throat as he moved a single finger further down, gently searching out his target, “Do you want me to open up your tight little hole?” _It’s over_. The echo of those words came back to Crowley as he felt a gentle but insistent touch more intimately than he had ever felt any other, finally feeling his angel touch his opening with the lightest press of his finger.

“Stop!” Crowley gasped loudly, startling Aziraphale, who immediately snatched his hands away in shock. He snapped his head to the side to see Crowley’s face, but it was turned away from him, Crowley had flung himself forward and into a tight ball on his lap, head buried near Aziraphale’s arm pit. Panic began to spread through Aziraphale’s gut, and he swallowed thickly, his throat suddenly dry. He tried to lean back to get a look at Crowley’s face, he nosed at Crowley’s jaw to encourage him to turn towards him. But Crowley only held on tighter to Aziraphale’s lapels as he ducked his head into the crook of Aziraphale’s neck. His eyes, his beautiful yellow snake eyes, so expressive, Crowley’s face was an open book to Aziraphale so long as he could see his eyes. Or it should have been. What had gone wrong? And when? _Stupid, selfish, greedy fool_, Aziraphale scolded himself. He had been so focused on himself that he had neglected his partner in the worst way. 

Crowley pressed his face against Aziraphale, keeping a death grip on his shirtfront and pulling the Angel towards him, squeezing them together to the point of discomfort. Aziraphale fought to stay calm, both hands in the air, trying to give the demon free reign despite how Crowley clung on to him. This only seemed to make things worse, Crowley letting out a small wail as he wriggled closer yet to Aziraphale. Crowley panted into Aziraphale’s shoulder, his body shook as he clenched and twisted the material of Aziraphale’s suit in his hands. The occasional sob racked his body and all the while he muttered into Aziraphale’s jacket as if in prayer. It was unlikely Crowley even knew he was speaking, the words little more than breathing. Aziraphale strained to make them out. “Centuries… always… everything… only… please… everything… you… you’re… everything… so long… please… please… please… please don’t hurt me. Please don’t hurt me.”

Aziraphale’s heart broke. Slowly, slowly, he lowered his arms, forcing his body to relax as he slowly placed his hands on the shaking demon’s back, as lightly as he could, focusing on any reaction from Crowley. Crowley slowed his muttering and finally stopped, sagging a little against Aziraphale, some of the tension lifting, though the grip on Aziraphale’s shirt and jacket remained as firm as ever. Aziraphale gently slid one hand up Crowley’s back, tracing the skin in what he hoped was a soothing manner over Crowley’s shoulder, down his arm and finally wrapping his hand over Crowley’s clenched knuckles.

“Oh, my dear,” breathed Aziraphale, relieved and heartbroken, “you are quite overwrought, aren’t you?” He still couldn’t see Crowley’s face, but now at least he understood a bit of the source of the demon’s distress. Aziraphale clasped Crowley’s hands in his and pressed them against his chest. “Okay”, he said over Crowley’s shoulder, “let’s get you settled down, then”. He reached his second hand out to the end of the bed to grab the tartan throw he kept there. ”There we go”, he soothed as Crowley was jostled, “there we go”. He shook open the blanket behind Crowley and draped it right over Crowley’s head. “Let’s get you comfy, here” Aziraphale tried to imitate the tone he had heard care-givers use, that instantly reassuring tone of someone who was going to help. He hoped desperately it also made him sound like he knew what he was doing.

Please don’t hurt me. I won’t survive it, thought Crowley frantically, not if you don’t mean it. Not if you don’t stay. Not if you get tired of me, not if you… Crowley shook his head to rid himself of the thought. _Not if he leaves you_. The thought surged forward, feeling like the only thing in his head, even as Crowley struggled to distract himself with the scratch of Aziraphale’s jacket on his nose. Rubbing back and forth as he shook his head, back and forth. Slowly, deliberately. After an eternity of rubbing slowly back and forth, concentrating on only that movement, it became a conscious action. Finally, he stilled. He breathed slowly, deliberately. He felt aware. He started to identify some sensations. His nose itched. How dare it. It stopped itching. 

Aziraphale manoeuvred Crowley so that he could wrap the blanket around him. “Okay, there we go, let’s get that leg tucked in”, he said, as he pushed the first of Crowley’s legs back over his knee, letting it fall straight. He arranged the blanket as well as he could, making sure it reached all the way to the floor. “All right, now over this way, that’s right, easy does it”. Crowley listened to Aziraphale talk to him as though he was an injured animal with mixed feelings. At least, he supposed they were mixed feelings, but it was hard to tell. He tried to do a mental inventory, but it wasn’t easy. He mostly just felt tired. His head felt…big? His eyes felt tight. His cheeks felt damp, so he supposed he must have been crying. He didn’t seem to care about that, though, which might have been odd, but he couldn’t feel that either. He felt soothed by Aziraphale’s tone. He felt a really big emotion about the way Aziraphale was caring for him. Might come back to that big emotion some other time. Irritated. He felt irritated at being cajoled like a wounded kitten. Sort of. It was kind of hard to tell. The big emotion might have been sitting on the irritation and it was getting all squashed. Crowley opened his eyes and watched his angel take good care of him.

Aziraphale gently rocked from one side to the next, dragging Crowley with him, tucking the blanket tight, and straightening his legs until he had Crowley wrapped up in the blanket and sitting in his lap instead of straddling it. Once he had Crowley in place, he began to move up the bed to settle himself into a seated position amongst his pillows. He dragged the Crowley bundle with him, draped over his legs and pulled in to lean against his chest.

“That’s better, isn’t it? All nice and cozy”, Aziraphale finished getting them into place and looked down to find Crowley calmly gazing up at him, a relaxed, slightly dopey smile on his face. Aziraphale almost laughed to think how Crowley would react to being told he had a dopey smile. Almost. Aziraphale focused on his partner. “Hi’ he said quietly, rubbing Crowley’s hands, which still held tightly to his shirt. Crowley blinked owlishly at him. His pupils were dilated, but less than before, Aziraphale noticed.

“Hi” answered Crowley, and while his voice sounded a little hoarse, at least he was talking.

“You should rest a bit” murmured Aziraphale, rubbing at Crowley’s fingers. “You’ll need to let go”. Crowley looked at his hands in confusion, twisted into the material covering Aziraphale’s chest. He frowned as he allowed Aziraphale to prize open his fingers. He had ruined both shirt and jacket. Aziraphale rubbed each of Crowley’s fingers to bring back his circulation, even though there was no need, it seemed to soothe Crowley a little, though the frown remained. “There now, everything’s all right, don’t you worry,” promised Aziraphale kissing the frown off Crowley’s forehead. Crowley pouted his lips together and lifted his face for a kiss, but Aziraphale kissed him one more time on each cheek instead, as tenderly as he could manage. “Just sleep my dear” he whispered, caressing Crowley’s cheek as he obediently shut his eyes, the memory of Aziraphale’s look of utmost affection easing any other thoughts as he drifted off to sleep. 

Aziraphale thought. As he cradled the sleeping demon, he rubbed a soothing thumb over his cheek, swept his hair from his forehead, and tried to recall as many details of what had transpired, trying to figure out what would happen next. How would Crowley behave when he woke? What would Aziraphale say? Would they be able to fix the damage they had done and could they save their relationship? Aziraphale struggled to keep his thoughts on track. It was no use panicking. They had been friends for lifetimes, they loved each other, they would get through this. They simply needed a plan, determined Aziraphale. And a generous dose of honesty. 

Aziraphale wasn’t sure when exactly Crowley had awoken, but he knew he was definitely awake. Crowley was bundled up in tartan, pretending to be asleep while he tried to figure out… just… anything. It wasn’t that he didn’t remember last night, he did, but he was having trouble getting past the mortification. He didn’t know how to face Aziraphale, who was holding him and petting him even after he had humiliated himself and shouted at him. Crowley stalled for time, trying to enjoy Aziraphale’s caress just a little longer, avoiding the inevitable.

“I’ve never told you that I love you”. Aziraphale spoke quietly, but there was no hesitation in his voice. Crowley did a full body startle, but Aziraphale managed to keep the Crowley bundle in his arms. “I’m sorry, my dear, I know I’ve been cruel to you, I know I’ve kept you waiting such a long time”. Crowley opened his eyes to see Aziraphale staring straight ahead. “I love you. I know that now, and you will too. I’m going to make sure you never doubt it again.” Aziraphale looked down at Crowley now, but he didn’t smile. “Good morning” he murmured. Crowley preened under the attention, smiling fondly up at Aziraphale as he rested his cheek against the angel’s chest. Aziraphale lightly shrugged the shoulder nearest Crowley’s head, jostling the demon out of his trance. “Good morning”, he tried again.

“Good morning” answered Crowley, bemused. Aziraphale hummed. “Are you ready to get dressed, my dear? I’d like to talk to you, but I think we should both be clothed”.

Crowley was naked. He was still _naked_. His angel loved him and he was naked. His angel loves him. Aziraphale shrugged his shoulder again, but he was smiling this time. “Crowley”. His angel was bloody impatient. Crowley wanted to bask in it, _my angel loves me_. He smirked, wriggling deeper into his blanket and enjoying the scratch of fabric on his bare skin.

“Say it again”, he ordered, closing his eyes and preparing to relish Aziraphale’s words. There was a soft chuckle above him and Aziraphale leaned down to press a kiss to Crowley’s forehead.

“I love you.”

“I love you, you slothful fiend, now _get up_ so that I can talk to you properly” Aziraphale muttered into Crowley’s forehead with a soft laugh. Crowley huffed and rolled away from Aziraphale. He shuffled with exaggerated inelegance until he was sitting on the edge of the bed. Aziraphale followed and they sat looking at one another. “Downstairs will do, I think” said Aziraphale. Crowley snapped his fingers. 

Aziraphale snapped himself downstairs a moment later and found Crowley fully dressed, lounging in his usual spot. Aziraphale could almost believe the feigned nonchalance, but he knew Crowley’s expressions too well and he could see the worry Crowley was trying to conceal. He crossed the floor swiftly to sit beside the demon, kneeing Crowley’s legs out of the way and taking one of Crowley’s hands in his. The demon had to sit up straight to accommodate him on the small couch. “I love you, my dear” Aziraphale said again, caressing Crowley’s hand and watching the demon carefully. “I know that you love me too, but last night wasn’t what either of us wanted and I think -”

“We went too fast” finished Crowley bitterly. _The irony_.

“No my dear” corrected Aziraphale calmly. “Not too fast. I want to go so fast it makes me dizzy and I need to cling to you for dear life. We’ll never go too fast again, no. But I think we missed some steps along the way. My dear, we went from our first kiss to my bed in a matter of moments! What about everything in between? My love, let’s go fast, but let’s not miss out”.

“That’s called going slow, angel” snarked Crowley.

“No” said Aziraphale with a mischievous smile. “I want to touch every bit of you, Crowley, but I want to touch your hand before I touch your cock” he ran a thumb over the back of Crowley’s hand.

“Nng”.

Aziraphale sighed. “That’s the other thing, my dear.” Aziraphale looked down at Crowley’s hand in his and sighed again. “I’m sorry, Crowley, this is all new to me, I’ve never done anything like this before and I’m learning as I go. But if you can’t talk to me when we’re… when we… when we’re _being intimate_, then you need to talk to me beforehand. I don’t know what I did wrong, but -” 

“I’ve never done this before either” breathed Crowley, so quietly that it took Aziraphale a moment to process.

“What?” Aziraphale exclaimed, more loudly than he had intended. “But you, well you’re-”

Crowley shifted uncomfortably. “Yes, all right, now you know, you don’t have to go on about it” he snapped, only briefly cutting off Aziraphale’s babbling.

“I couldn’t understand why you were so overwhelmed. I teased you, I pushed you, oh, my dear, forgive me, please, please forgive me, I had no idea”.

Crowley shifted his weight, but Aziraphale was clearly waiting for an answer. Crowley wasn’t sure he could talk. “S’right” he managed, but he had to follow it with a sniffle and his eyes watered as he spoke. Aziraphale watched the demon struggle with his emotions sadly.

“It’s not all right, my dear, and I’m so very sorry”, he said, bringing Crowley’s hand to his lips and placing a kiss in the palm. “But I think I know what to do.”

“We’re not used to being intimate”, began Aziraphale, but was immediately interrupted by Crowley’s suggestively raised eyebrows. “Physically close” corrected Aziraphale, exasperated, but pleased that Crowley was bringing them back to a more familiar dynamic. We’ve grown used to ignoring our feelings and desires for so long that they feel overwhelming now. We need to practice.” Aziraphale placed Crowley’s hand back on his knee and reached for his pocket. Crowley watched him remove a cotton handkerchief. “So here’s how we’re going to start” continued the angel, reaching up to dab at Crowley’s cheeks. "Starting tonight, we will share a bed every night when you sleep. You may be clothed or unclothed, as you please, I shall wear my pyjamas. and I shall sit beside you and read while you sleep”.

Crowley straightened and took the handkerchief from Aziraphale, drying his face. That didn’t sound so bad. It didn’t sound particularly intimate, either, but then, Crowley had never slept in front of anyone, he realised and suddenly appreciated the idea. Clever little angel. Such a deceptively simple thing, yet so new and personal.

“Are those things you’d like to start doing?” asked Aziraphale, taking his handkerchief back from Crowley and tucking it away. Crowley nodded, but Aziraphale tipped his head meaningfully.

“Yes”, said Crowley.

“Good!” beamed Aziraphale,” I have to chose a book!” he squeaked excitedly, patting Crowley’s knee.

_Bastard_, thought Crowley, watching the angel open up the shop. _I knew it, I knew you’d break me open and leave me for your precious books_. Crowley tried to put some venom into the thought, he really did, but he couldn’t quite manage it. He did feel a little nervous about tonight, though, and his angel had given him a full day to stew in his thoughts. _Bastard_, thought Crowley again, but Aziraphale was doing that thing with the page turning and the smiling again and Crowley’s anger evaporated. _Bastard_, he thought cheerfully, enjoying his angel’s smile, _you’re watching my every move, aren’t you_? 

Aziraphale was very much watching Crowley’s every move. He busied himself around the shop, monitoring Crowley as covertly as he could manage. He seemed to be responding well to Aziraphale’s suggestion. Crowley had been a little tense initially, but the familiarity of the morning was obviously having a calming effect, as Aziraphale had hoped. Shortly before lunch, he narrowly avoided walking into Crowley, who had moved silently to stand behind him.

“I’m going to go back to the flat. M’plants” explained Crowley. “Dinner tonight?” Aziraphale nodded, clutching his book to his chest. Crowley smirked and tipped his head meaningfully.

“Yes!” Aziraphale said pointedly, with a pleased smile, which faded a little as Crowley hesitated before him. Had Aziraphale missed something again? Crowley had seemed fine, if a little nervous, but now he hovered near the angel as if waiting for- “Oh!” Aziraphale gasped in sudden understanding. “Oh, come here, you darling creature!” he cried, dropping the book and throwing his arms around Crowley, bringing him down into a kiss. 

Crowley was elated, his angel wrapped around him, pressed against him, kissing him sweetly and passionately, just too indecent for the shop. And he had dropped his book! Crowley had never, not once, ever seen Aziraphale mistreat a book, not for any reason. Crowley smirked into Aziraphale’s mouth and ended the kiss with an extra bit of fire, leaning back to appreciate Aziraphale’s heated face. Crowley bent to retrieve the book and return it to Aziraphale.

“I’ll pick you up after close” said Crowley as he left. 

Aziraphale’s day was unremarkable, once he had finished apologising to his disgruntled book. He closed the shop but left the door unlocked, wondering when Crowley would make his entrance. He fretted over his appearance, casting a few frivolous miracles. He changed his pocket square three times. Finally, finally, Crowley stalked through the front door, hips galore, striding right up to Aziraphale and taking him in a melodramatic kiss, dipping Aziraphale backwards and swinging him back up with a laugh. Aziraphale knew the kiss was a little forced, but he wasn’t about to complain. Crowley had probably planned it on his way over, but at least he felt confident enough for that. Aziraphale beamed at the demon, so proud of himself. Crowley’s eyes flicked to the new pocket square, smiling.

“Ready?” he asked salaciously and causing Azirpahale to shiver, though he wasn’t sure why.

The Ritz miraculously had a table available for them. As usual, Aziraphale ordered and Crowley watched. Aziraphale didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary until the pastries arrived. Five petits fours set out on a plate. Aziraphale eyed them all with anticipation, selecting the miniature coffee eclair first. He bit into it with a small appreciative moan, eyes fluttering closed as he savoured the taste. Opening his eyes again he spotted Crowley, smiling broadly, watching him eat. Aziraphale wondered about the smile, but as he licked his lips he suddenly realised the focus of Crowley’s attention. His mouth. Covered in coffee crème pâtissière and glaze. Crowley raised an eyebrow pointedly, waiting for Aziraphale to swallow. Aziraphale did, watching Crowley follow the movement avidly.

“Good?” enquired Crowley, barely feigning innocence. Aziraphale nodded slowly, watching Crowley settle back into his usual position. His usual position, realised Aziraphale. How many times had they done this? How many times had Crowley sat opposite him, watching his mouth so lustfully and he, gluttonous, obliviously savouring his food?

Aziraphale placed the second half of his eclair into his mouth, and this time he noticed his own moan, cutting it off in shock. Did he always do that? He looked wide-eyed at Crowley, whose delighted smile provided the answer. Aziraphale turned his attention to the plate in front of him. He still had four of these things to go, he was never going to make it. Automatically, he popped his thumb in his mouth, licking away the remains of the cream. Scrumptious, he moaned, even as his eyes flew open again, looking at Crowley in despair. “Oh yes, angel, every, single, time” the demon confirmed happily, to Aziraphale’s horror. “Eat up, angel, I know how much you love these. The cheesecake next.” Crowley urged, turning the plate to put the pastry within easy reach. Gamely, Aziraphale picked up the treat, slightly too large to eat in a single mouthful. Looking Crowley right in the eye, he bit into the small cake, doing his best not to moan, the sharp tang of passionfruit making his mouth water.

“Good?” asked Crowley pointedly as Aziraphale finished chewing.

“Tart” responded Aziraphale flatly, doing his best to fight back, though he knew the battle was lost. 

Crowley looked positively proud as he turned his attention back to Aziraphale’s mouth, waiting for the lick. Aziraphale wouldn’t give him the satisfaction, placing the remainder of the small cheesecake into his mouth. It cost him a fat dollop of cream on his top lip, he realised in despair as Crowley sighed softly. Aziraphale licked the cream away and wiped his thumb across his lip for good measure. He managed not to moan, only to let a soft breathy huff escape him instead. “You’re obscene” commented Crowley casually, mortifying Aziraphale even further. “You’re never to eat in front of anyone else ever again, I won’t allow it, d’you hear?” Crowley scolded calmly, his gaze never leaving Aziraphale’s mouth as the angel blushed furiously.

“The sablé next” Crowley insisted mercilessly. Aziraphale picked up the biscuit, relieved to realise that this morsel at least could be got rid of in a single mouthful. He popped it whole into his mouth and chewed. Crowley hummed approvingly, staring at Aziraphale’s mouth as the angel quickly licked the crumbs from his lips. Taking courage, Aziraphale seized the small chocolate mousse cake and though it was a little larger than the sablé, he fit the entire thing in his mouth in one piece. Unfortunately for him, the mousse was lightly coated in cocoa powder, causing him to cough. It was a good thing Aziraphale didn’t need to breathe. As it was he coughed a little as his eyes watered and he struggled to swallow the mousse. It was enough to draw the attention of a well-trained waiter, who rushed to the table side. Crowley sent him away with a serene request for a glass of water and an assurance that all was well. He turned his attention back to Aziraphale, who had just managed to swallow the mousse, face red and eyes watering. Aziraphale thanked the returning waiter, taking the water and drinking it gratefully, pausing to dab his eyes dry with his napkin. “Last one”.

Aziraphale looked at the plate in front of him in desperation. A rich caramel and white chocolate layered confection, larger than the rest. At least four mouthfuls. This one would require cutlery, though, decided Aziraphale happily, reaching for the delicate dessert fork. Crowley dealt with the bill as Aziraphale ate his last pastry, even though Aziraphale allowed himself some soft hopeful moans as he ate. He felt less flustered, though he actually missed the attention a little, too.

“C’mon angel, let’s get you home” ordered Crowley, loudly enough to turn one or two heads, bounding from his chair and striding from the restaurant without a second glance at Aziraphale, who followed him quickly, offering quiet excuses to the nearby patrons Crowley had interrupted, his blush returning.

He caught up with Crowley at the Bentley, the demon leaning on the open passenger door, waiting for Aziraphale. “_I’m_ obscene?” he hissed at the demon, “Honestly, Crowley, I could have discorporated from the shame!” he groused, seating himself and glaring up at Crowley with a total lack of any real anger.

“You could have used your napkin” smirked Crowley, shutting the door in Aziraphale’s outraged face. His bloody napkin, remembered Aziraphale far too late. He was still sputtering as Crowley got in behind the wheel. He spared a look and a smile at the angel before driving off, resolutely ignoring the radio’s overly appropriate selection. He looked so happy that Aziraphale forgot his indignation and settled into the passenger seat to watch Crowley with adoration.

“Stop that” muttered Crowley as he glared at the road, determined to ignore the besotted way Aziraphale was staring at him. How easily the angel put an end to Crowley’s short-lived triumph.

“All right, my dear”, Aziraphale agreed softly, much to Crowley’s surprise. The angel timed it perfectly. He waited until some of the tension had seeped from Crowley’s features before speaking again. “Later” he added quietly, and Crowley was suddenly reminded of that night’s new sleeping arrangements. He hadn’t forgotten, of course, he’d thought about it all the blasted day, but he’d thought about what it would feel like for him, it had somehow never occurred to him that Aziraphale could just sit and watch him for hours. “Oh Crowley” murmured Aziraphale, watching the demon grip the steering wheel. The Bentley had slowed to an almost acceptable speed as the demon struggled with his thoughts. “I do love you so” Aziraphale chuckled quietly, turning his attention to the road and leaving Crowley in peace to get them home.

Crowley didn’t get out of the car as soon as he’d parked, gripping the steering wheel and staring at the shop front as though it was a gallows. Aziraphale waited. After some time, he decided he would have to take the lead if they were ever going to get out of the car.

“Crowley?” he prompted gently.

“Yep!” That did it. Crowley leaped out of the car and ran around to open Aziraphale’s door. Aziraphale placed his hand on Crowley’s arm as he passed.

“How about a nightcap?” It was just an excuse, really, something to break the silence and coax Crowley into the shop. Crowley nodded. Cleared his throat.

“Yep!” Aziraphale hid his disappointment with an encouraging smile as they entered the shop.

Crowley had taken up his usual spot, while Aziraphale fetched the wine. Crowley wasn’t sitting with his usual slouch, sitting slightly stiffly on one side of the small couch. A clear sign of his nervousness. Aziraphale handed a glass of wine to Crowley, who glanced at the space beside him. Aziraphale realised that Crowley was sitting like that so that they could share the couch and he about swooned down onto the seat with a relieved grin. Conversation, however, was not forthcoming.

Aziraphale sighed softly. “We don’t have to change anything, you know”

“I want to” Crowley interrupted loudly.

Aziraphale paused, considering their options. He changed tack. “Last night”, he began, causing Crowley to fidget “I misunderstood. I thought you were letting me go at my own pace to put me at ease, I had no idea that I was the one pushing you, I’m so sorry.” Crowley took off his sunglasses, shook his head slowly and set his eyes on the angel’s face, which Aziraphale took as encouragement “I know you enjoyed at least some of it. What changed?”

Crowley felt that gutted sensation spread through his insides again, feeling hollow yet overwhelmed, bereft but adored, struggling to process the new emotions and not at all sure he could find words to communicate his body’s reactions. Aziraphale watched Crowley withdraw for a moment before interrupting. “What was good?” he pressed. Crowley stopped fidgeting to look at Aziraphale and smile so lecherously that the angel laughed. “Okay, but tell me, what did you like?” he insisted, resting his hand on Crowley’s knee.

“Everything” breathed Crowley, though he was back to looking rather miserable.

“Ah”, Aziraphale nodded in understanding, “It was all just too much.” “Well”, he began, shifting on the small couch.

“N-no” said Crowley, to the angel’s confusion. “No”, he repeated more firmly, looking Aziraphale in the eye, begging him to understand.

“It wasn’t” Aziraphale deadpanned as Crowley slowly shook his head, looking down at where Aziraphale’s hand rested on his knee. “It wasn’t too much?” repeated Aziraphale, thoroughly confused.

Crowley thought he might cry. He didn’t know why it was so difficult for him to tell Aziraphale what he wanted, but he couldn’t bring himself to form the words. “Not too much” mulled Aziraphale, watching Crowley’s utterly miserable expression helplessly. “Not enough?” he asked timidly, was he not enough for the demon? Crowley said he was inexperienced but that didn’t mean he didn’t have needs. He was a demon of hell, after all, who knows where he had got his inspiration. What if Aziraphale couldn’t give him what he wanted? “Crowley?” he prompted desperately when the demon didn’t respond. “Please, my dear-” Quick as a snake, Crowley’s hand shot out to settle over Aziraphale’s, as Crowley looked wild-eyed at the angel. That was it, that was his answer, Aziraphale knew, but he couldn’t quite piece it all together. Slowly, he put down his wine glass and placed his other hand over Crowley’s, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Crowley suddenly looked so hopeful it was baffling Aziraphale. So he sat there, squeezing Crowley’s hand and stroking it soothingly with his thumb, watching Crowley, who didn’t seem calm, exactly, but certainly less distressed than earlier.

Aziraphale gasped indignantly as he put the pieces together. He could laugh. He could kick himself. He could murder bloody Crowley. “Crowley, my dear, come here” he said, opening up his arms, deciding to put his theory to the test. Crowley turned to put down his own glass, but Aziraphale didn’t wait for him to turn back around. The angel threw a knee up on the narrow space between them and seized Crowley’s waist, pulling him back over his leg, wrapping his arms around him and clasping him against his chest. Crowley let himself be manhandled and went limp in Aziraphale’s arms as soon as the angel had him settled. Aziraphale kept his arms firmly wrapped around the demon as he rocked him to the side, gaining access to his neck and cheek, which he promptly covered in kisses.

“Is that it?” he cried, “Is this what you need?” Crowley beamed back at the angel, pressing back into his chest.

“I can’t believe you, you silly, beautiful, ridiculous demon, you” laughed Aziraphale between kisses. “All this fuss because you won’t admit you’re a snuggler? Crowley. I. Was. Worried” he scolded, punctuating each word with a slap to Crowley’s backside, or as much of it as he could reach. “Oh you are too much, my dear, my lovely demon, my little… Snugglebum!” laughed Aziraphale, squeezing Crowley and covering him with kisses. He moved one hand to caress Crowley’s face and brushed his hair away from his eyes so he could see the scowl he expected Crowley was levelling at him for calling him ’Snugglebum’. “Petrifying!” he teased delightedly, planting a kiss right on Crowley’s eyelid, sabotaging the tragic attempt at a glare.

“So you like to be held”, he sighed, finally settling back and enjoying the weight of Crowley snuggling against him.

“Yes, I like to be held” confirmed Crowley. It was suddenly so easy to say. Aziraphale was so relieved. Crowley was a snuggler. Of course he was, what else would he be? Precious, romantic, thoughtful, tender Crowley, of course he loved a good cuddle, how could Aziraphale ever have overlooked something so obvious?

“Oh, you brat, how you frightened me” sighed Aziraphale. “You wicked, wicked brat!” he scolded, surging forward again to blow a raspberry into Crowley’s neck. Crowley absolutely, positively, definitely, did not squeal.

Crowley was beginning to drift off when he felt the angel shrug his shoulder at him until he opened his eyes. Crowley gave a grunt and snapped his fingers. He wriggled down into the covers, turned over to spoon against Aziraphale and drifted off to sleep. Aziraphale found himself dumped unceremoniously onto his bed with a sleeping demon clamped contentedly to his side. He sighed. He seemed to be doing that a lot, recently. He shifted into a comfortable position, careful not to disturb Crowley. One little miracle later, Aziraphale turned to the first chapter of his book.


End file.
